And other things I’ve been telling myself
Today’s the eleventy billionth day of March 2020 and you can’t convince me otherwise. The terrifying start of this never ending pandemic was yesterday and yet as distant as the discovery of fire. I’d swear I’d just written something here and huh, it’s been a few weeks. This post, written on the last day of September in the Year of our Burnout 2021, is only the twelfth all year. The hours whip by faster and faster, the weeks crawl, my days are mixed up.
So while time has no meaning it’s still somehow marching on. Two birthdays in the last seven days; Tom and I both leveled up, thankfully neither one was a number ending in zero. We all double-masked ourselves and flew Andy out to college last week. I have so many thoughts about that alone but can’t seem to get the gears in my head to catch. The gear nubbins are worn and slick with unshed tears from the last 18 months and the quick version is parents, it does get better(ish) and they do eventually move out. Jack is a senior in high school, driving himself there and back every day. My little blue eyed baby comes home swearing a hot streak about other students not wearing masks correctly (an excess of dick nose) and then disappears into his room to work (programming and design work online) or game online with friends.
My patience with the world has grown thin. Most days I just want to run off and hide. Not live off-grid nor be a hermit, just…be away from people. Next week Jack has a business trip (for real) and Tom is accompanying him; I’ll be alone for the first time in over 20 months. I may just arrange my own silent retreat. Or maybe I’ll descend into quiet madness, haven’t decided yet.
Time keeps on keeping on and yet the return to familiar is still out of reach. Band has started back up and returning to making music with friends is a balm to my soul. Playing flute in a mask is a new and sweaty level of suck, but if it means I get to make music then I will embrace that suck with sweaty enthusiasm. I’m still job hunting, which is to be expected with a career pivot, but I miss working and no I will not return to teaching. Normal is dead and gone, but I could go for a little more familiar.